Yesterday I got an email from the company who hosts my website. It explained that, starting next year, the domain registration won’t be included in the price of the yearly package I have (as it is now), and will cost an additional $26.

I read the email twice. I just stared at it.


I make no money from this website. I never have. I make no money from anything. In fact, I pay to keep ads off this website. I’ve been paying for this site for nearly five years now. Never making a cent, never making a big deal about it, but still, that $26 for the domain in addition to the other fees bothered me.

It’s no secret that I often don’t enjoy writing. One might wonder why I keep doing it (which is fair) and I’m either doing it in spite of myself, or I’m trying to punish myself for something. I write the night before each post (ideally) and, nearly every one of those nights, I realize at some point, OH DARN I HAVE TO WRITE TONIGHT.

I’d say that happens about 80% of the time, and that’s an actual estimate, no hyperbole necessary.

Sometimes I think writing, or, more specifically, my writing, is stupid. The act of it, the example of it, all of it. I feel like I should be better at it by now, I feel like an idiot, I feel like my words are of no interest and I feel like I’m not getting anywhere.

And now, I will have to pay even more to keep doing it.


In reality, $26 is not a big deal. I know that. But that $26 is kicking me in the face when I’m already in the dirt going, YEAH I KNOW. YOU CAN STOP KICKING ME NOW.

That $26 is me moving backwards, paying more money to keep doing what I’m already weary of doing.

That $26 is a big fat middle finger saying HA HA YOU WON’T EVER GET ANYWHERE.

That $26 is a dick.

When I’d had time to think about the email, I wrote to my partner letting him know about the change and that I was already so frustrated with everything, maybe I should just let the site go.

His response?

“Obviously, it’s your choice, but $26.00 a year should not be any part of any choice.”

I know he’s right. Of course he’s right. He’s logical and intelligent and, often, his parsing of issues comes out where I’d like to come out without all the other agita I often wade through.

As the night wore on, I thought about the stuuuuuuuuupid $26. It’s a symbol of my moving backwards. That I keep trying, keep writing, and it just gets worse. That $26 is an imaginary voice whispering “give up.”

The evening was difficult. I kept asking if I could allow myself to give up on writing. I don’t believe it’s going anywhere, will go anywhere, but I’ve somehow managed to press on.

Is it worth the time, effort, or cost? Does it benefit anyone?

As I sat there asking myself a lot of questions with negative responses, someone I think incredibly highly of posted the following to my Facebook wall out of the blue:

And her accompanying statement:

“Stick this in your pocket next time you wonder if you will keep writing. Your keyboard is your HMS Beagle.”

Aaand I’m crying again just rereading it.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never known what I’m doing. And I don’t know what will happen.

But I don’t think I have it in me to quit.

The entry fee to my potential continued failure?


I pay it begrudgingly.

But I pay it.

12 replies »

  1. If it means anything I would gladly give you $26 a year to continue to read your stuff. It’s very strange how the small things are the steam that breaks the camel’s back.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’d never accept it, but it means more to me than I could ever say and I’m immediately crying so let that be your answer.

      It is, indeed. I sometimes wonder if it’s easier for those things to push us because they are so small. Bigger things are like concepts but small things like that $26 are like an icon of the problem.


  2. It’s been said that lessons aren’t cheap. Who knew $26 was their price tag? I can certainly relate to how you feel but I’m glad you’re not going to let it all go. Writing is worth it. Hang in there!


  3. This is damn good writing. And I love that note on Charles Darwin…

    And I’d argue there’s even more light beyond that 26$ entry fee too (but seriously, this is really good stuff and I’m enjoying the hell out of it!)


  4. I’ve always enjoyed your unique style and take on any subject you choose to write about. As said above I’d gladly pay that to give you one less obstacle to worry about. The little things do add up and I admire your willingness to be so open about the struggles of it all. You’re an amazing person and I hope you do what’s best for you and makes you happy.


    • Thank you, Nathaniel. You’ve been such an amazing friend to me over the years and I can’t thank you enough for both your friendship as well as your words here.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.